Troubles With Toddlers
by Dragonfaerie1996
Summary: Sherlock Holmes wasn't quite expecting he'd have to ever watch a child, but now he has no choice. What will John think when he gets home?


**I st****arted writing this during the summer, I was bored and it was a good escape from Camp Nano, especially when I was growing stressed. I plan to expand it, well. I hope to.**

Reviews are welcome, and encouraged! I'd like to hear what ya'll think!  
Happy reading!  
~DF1996

_**Bzz, Bzz, Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!**_

Sherlock groaned and turned over in his bed. As he was expecting John to answer it.  
"JOHN!" No answer."JOHN! Would you answer the door?" Sherlock called angrily from him room. It was bloody eight in the morning- where had his blogger gone off to at such an ungodly hour? He grumbled to himself and ran a hand through his black, curly and unruly mop of hair. He rolled off his bed and stood, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His blue pajamas were wrinkled meaning he had tossed and turned all night. He sighed and sulked out the door and out his apartment door trying to find out who was at the bloody door. Where in the world had John gotten off to? Not here to answer the door for him, or do anything for that matter.  
"I'm coming! I'm coming, give me a break!" He said angrily as he opened the door. A man, his clothes disheveled as was the rest of his appearance was on the other side of the door, a large, long and rectangular thing tucked under his arm and a rather large bag hanging off his shoulder. "Can I help you?" Sherlock asked with a thick layer of annoyance in his voice.

"Yes- I'm Andrew Hudson, I'm looking for my mother." Scruffy, bags under his eyes. Surely he was a parent, was he not? Or had an awful case of insomnia. There was a light stain on his grey jacket, it was still wet. Drool perhaps? Spit-up more likely. But where was the child? A small face peeked from behind the man's long legs, it had a curly mop of blonde hair, with two pigtails on the sides. Looked rather young, but alas. There was the child.  
"Mrs. Hudson is on vacation in Germany. You had to have known that, as you are her son. Did you try to phone her?" Sherlock asked, truly this man had to have known that his mother was on vacation.

"I did try to phone, I thought that she may have been sleeping.." Sleeping? At eight in the morning, she didn't often sleep late. Sherlock shook his head at the man.  
"I needed a sitter for my daughter Liza. It was last minute, my father in law is in the hospital." Andrew said tiredly, Liza hiding behind him and looking to the cab in the road where her mother sat.  
"Well you'll have to find one, won't you?" Sherlock said blankly, turning to leave.  
"Would you watch her?" Andrew had heard of the infamous Sherlock Holmes, the man with the hat, the crime solver. He was safe and his mother surely trusted him. Didn't she?  
"What would I do with a child? I can't take a child to a crime scene!" Not that he had anything to solve- otherwise he would have been awake and deducting. His eyes traveled to the mans hand, yellowed nails showed signs of a smoker. Sherlock would begin to smoke again too if he had a child.

"Please, Mr. Holmes. I need a sitter, this is my wifes father!" Andrew begged the tall, skinny and pale man. Liza toddled out from behind her father and clung to Sherlock's leg.  
"What is this thing doing?!" Sherlock asked with wide eyes. He couldn't understand her at all, she had nothing deductable about her.  
"She likes you. Will you please watch her? I'll- I'll pay you!" Andrew begged, pulling out his wallet and a pulled out six five-pound notes.  
"I'll pay you thirty pounds, its what I can." Andrew began to hand the toddlers things to the tall and lanky man.

"I'll do it as a favor to Mrs. Hudson." He mumbled and took the bag and large rectangular contraption.  
"Tell no one of this." The little girl clung tighter to the mans long legs, not paying much attention to her father leaving.  
"Directions are in the bag!" He ran to the cab and it pulled away. Sherlock stood there, looking down at the alien like thing clinging to his leg.  
"What am I going to do with a toddler?" He lifted his leg to shake the child off, but she wouldn't budge. "Come on, get off." He mumbled and tried to reach down to pick her up. But she only clung tighter and began to scream when he went to pick her up. He sighed and pulled up his leg with great effort. Beginning to half drag himself to the stairs as he contemplated getting up them.

The girl suddenly let go and began to half run, half waddle up the stairs quicker than Sherlock could react. "Lina! Lia.. Liza! Whatever your name is! Stop right there!" He yelled at the girl and scrambled up behind him. His long limbs swinging rapidly as he moved. It was a wonder he didn't drop anything. The girl turned, and cooed at him. She couldn't have been older than two, the smile on her face told him she was up to something. He reached her and picked her up by the straps of her overalls- hideous thing really. He had seen it done in something on the telly, why wouldn't it work now? She screamed, but it was more of a laugh as she seemingly flew through the air. He made it through the door and dropped all he was carrying- all but the child of course. "What am I supposed to do with you?"  
"PLAY!" She yelled and swung herself back and forth. Sherlock brought her to the couch and set her down, she watched him carefully- mimicking him when he scrunched up his face in confusion.  
"Do you like to watch the telly?" He asked her tiredly. She nodded enthusiastically and scrambled to her feet. Beginning to bounce on the couch. "We'll watch a crime show, then." The television set was soon turned on- and pictures of a crime scene flashed across the screen.

Blood and a disfigured body appeared, if only for a moment. Liza screamed and threw herself into the couch cushions. How could one not like a crime show?  
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU CHILD?!" Sherlock screamed, trying to get over childs piercing screams. Liza sat up, her lower lip quivering as she looked to the pale man. Sherlock sat down next to her and ran his fingers through his hair. Liza crawled into his lap and buried her face in his chest. Her chubby little hand balled up the Consulting Detectives pajama shirt. Sherlock stared down at the little thing. Her eyes red and puffy. Her face flushed.  
"What on earth are you doing?" He asked her, but she was already shutting her eyes and curling up to fall asleep. He groaned and settled into the couch, if she was done screaming he didn't want to risk upsetting once more. "Mrs. Hudson will be hearing about this.."


End file.
